


Catch As Catch Can

by musicin68



Category: The Expanse (TV)
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Humor, Intrigue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-08
Updated: 2018-06-01
Packaged: 2019-05-03 20:18:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14576844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musicin68/pseuds/musicin68
Summary: This started as a one shot and is turning into a collection of Chrisjen and Bobbie moments. Each chapter should stand alone. Chapters 1-4 are rated T, Chapter 5 is rated E.





	1. Adrift

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set sometime around 303 or 304.
> 
> Even Chrisjen has to put down the mask sometimes.

Bobbie Draper was not a heavy sleeper. She might not be trained to ‘bend people to her will’, but she was certainly trained to move quickly from sleep to wide awake. The trouble was she wasn’t sure what had woken her. As far as she could tell nothing was amiss. The _Tachi_ — _Roci_ — _Contorta_ , whatever Holden’s crew was calling the ship now, was still under thrust.

They were supposed to be executing the flip to decelerate towards Io sometime during ship’s night. Maybe an announcement had come over the speakers warning of that. Then she heard it. A stuttered cry from the bunk below hers, followed by Avasarala’s panicked breathing. Bobbie began undoing her restraints.

A muttered “Fuck,” reached her ears and the Martian frowned in the dim light. Her first instinct was to get up, make sure that the Deputy Undersecretary was alright, but she paused. How many nights after Ganymede had she awoken in a panic? She didn’t think for a second that Cotyar’s death was any easier for Avasarala to deal with than her squad’s had been for her. Bobbie certainly hadn’t missed the tears the old woman had fought back while watching the newsfeed detailing the events on Venus. She probably knew people there too.

There wasn’t much in the way of personal space on a boat like this, and Bobbie was sure Avasarala was used to privacy. So she lay still, trying to pretend that she wasn’t there, feeling horribly awkward all the while.

A quiet string of expletives punctuated Avasarala’s struggle against the harness intended to keep her in the bunk during unexpected maneuvers. After a minute she managed to free herself and staggered barefoot into the center of the room. She glanced back in Bobbie’s direction before sitting heavily at the table, her head falling to her hands.

Her breathing began to slow and she was still long enough that the Martian thought maybe she had fallen asleep again where she sat. She’d have to wake her up and get her back into her bunk. Holden seemed dead set on staying out of trouble, but his continuous protestations aside, he was still flying them into a war zone. She quietly finished removing her restraints, but before she rose Avasarala straightened with a deep sigh and Bobbie held still once more.

She watched the older woman begin to pace the small room. It was comforting in a way, Bobbie thought. In her element, Avasarala was an unstoppable force; out here she was just like everyone else, trying to find momentum. A muted tone came over the loudspeakers and a moment later Bobbie felt the ship’s thrust cut out.

“Oh, for—Goddamnit!”

Bobbie sat up this time and tried not to laugh. The Deputy Undersecretary was drifting in the middle of the room. Her last step imparting just enough energy to leave her out of reach of a useful surface.

“Hold still Madam,” Bobbie said with a wry grin.

Avasarala whipped her head halfway around trying to spot the Martian over her shoulder and waved her arms ineffectually, “If I could move, I wouldn’t be in this fucking mess.”

Bobbie shook her head, still smiling, as she began to get her mag boots out of the locker at the end of the bed. The maneuvering thrusters fired, a brief force pushing against the hand holding the rail, and her grin vanished. The room began to turn around Avasarala and the seconds to the completion of the flip began to count down in the marine’s head. Seconds until Chrisjen came crashing down headfirst onto the floor. Bobbie had only just gotten the woman out of the infirmary and wasn’t keen on her ending up there again.

“I mean it, don’t move,” she ordered, abandoning the boots. She pushed herself toward the woman hanging helplessly in space angling to land feet first on the far wall. Bobbie collided with her from behind, wrapping her right arm tightly around the older woman’s torso.

Avasarala’s breath went out of her in a rush, “Jesus Christ! A little warning would have been nice.”

Bobbie ignored her and pulled into a half tuck, folding Avasarala’s smaller frame into herown as she did so. She had about a second as her feet came to rest on the wall to decide on their return angle. She kicked off in the direction she estimated the bunks would be when they got there. She was close. She managed to catch the lip of the lower bunk, and with a grunt she hauled them both inside, her back scraping along the bottom edge. All things considered she felt lucky not to have concussed herself.

Bobbie switched her left grip to the grab bar inside the bunk, but kept her hold tight on the undersecretary. They floated a second longer, Chrisjen wriggled against her. “You could let—” The warning tone came again and the two of them dropped to the bunk as thrust returned, Chrisjen’s head pillowed by the Marine’s outstretched arm.

“Are you alright?”

She felt Avasarala nod, but it was a long moment before she spoke, her voice thicker than usual. “Fine.”

“What did we learn today?”

“I still fucking hate space,” the Earther managed, her voice strangled. “Are you going to let go of me?”

“Are you going to keep your boots on when you’re wandering around?”

“Yes,” she hissed.

Bobbie could practically see the pout that accompanied the concession. She stifled a laugh, loosened her grip, and then fell silent as she felt something damp against her bicep. Chrisjen Avasarala was crying.

 

 

 

They lay spooned together as Avasarala wept, the only sound her stilted breathing. Bobbie flexed her hand, trying to fight off the encroaching numbness without disturbing Chrisjen. She might as well have not bothered. The other woman lifted her head almost as soon as she moved and Bobbie slid her left arm out from under her. Her right was still wrapped nearly all the way around the smaller woman, her forearm spanning her torso easily, hip to breast.

Chrisjen took several measured breaths before speaking, her voice still rough. “I didn’t mean to wake you earlier. It’s been…a long time since I felt this helpless.”

“It’s ok. I mean, after…after my squad was killed, I don’t think I managed a good night’s sleep until,” she paused in thought. “Well, until after I beat the ever living shit out of Captain Martens.”

Avasarala snorted. “As much as I would like, literally, to turn Errinwright’s balls into pulp while they are still attached, I don’t think it would help me sleep.”

“Not even a little?”

“Maybe a little,” she acquiesced.

Bobbie grinned.

Avasarala sighed. “That piece of shit and his stupid, fucking war are the least of our problems.”

“He wants you dead, that seems like a pretty big problem to me.”

“It’s sweet of you to say so, but my life is of little importance in the grand scheme of things anymore, except where I can use it to save others. And right now, I am next to useless.”

“Who are you calling ‘useless’, old lady?” she said with a smirk Chrisjen couldn’t see.

“Oh, you think maybe I would feel better if I had someone beat _you_ up? Because if you call me that again, I’m sure I could find someone willing to try.”

Bobbie chuckled and gave her a squeeze.

“The real problem is the proto-molecule. Michael—” Chrisjen stopped and took a shaky breath, another tear falling. “I don’t have enough information, I don’t really know what it is doing or why, only that it is a threat to our entire species. And these goddamn, fucking idiots are too busy fighting over the toys on the playground to realize it could wipe us all out.”

“What do you need?” Bobbie asked.

“If we nuke Io, we learn nothing. And if we learn nothing we will be blindsided by Venus, by whatever the proto-molecule is capable of. I need to convince Holden to let me take what we find to people who will make sense of it.”

“And if you can’t, what about the sample the OPA has?”

“A fractured group of terrorists in possession of an alien artifact that has already been weaponized? If that isn’t the stuff of nightmares, I don’t know what is.” She took in a deep breath. “It’s possible that Fred Johnson may still be the good man Souther thinks he is. Small fucking comfort.”

“Okay,” Bobbie said, nodding. “I can see why you’re not sleeping well.” The marine noted that the problems laid out by the Deputy Undersecretary did not include personal worries. She was still keeping her losses close. She lay quietly for a while listening to Chrisjen’s steady breathing. It was only slightly louder than the gears shifting and turning in the politician’s head.

She had begun to drift off, cramped though she was in the small bunk when Chrisjen shifted against her. “Turn off your brain,” Bobbie grumbled.

“I’m missing something.”

“I doubt it. Go to sleep.”

Chrisjen wrapped her hand around Bobbie’s, letting her arm rest on top of the Martian’s. “There’s something else I need…when we get to Io.”

“What’s that?”

“I need you to not die.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These two are so cute on the show, I can’t even. I only hope I did them justice here.
> 
>  
> 
> And I forgot the disclaimer: this setting and the characters, sadly, don't belong to me. It's probably just as well they don't, because I'd just follow Avasarala and Bobbie around and do nothing else.


	2. Teamwork

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set sometime after 304.
> 
> Bobbie recognizes that the Roci crew doesn't make a very good team at the moment, but Chrisjen is already plotting.

It was a miracle. Bobbie had actually managed to coax Avasarala out of their cabin to eat with the rest of the crew. They hadn’t been on this ship that long, but almost every meal Bobbie had brought her had gone back to the galley barely touched. The woman was subsisting on caffeine and newsfeeds. She thought maybe if she could get the stubborn old bat away from a screen for 10 minutes she could actually get her to eat, if only because social convention stated that when you were in the company of others eating, you did too.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t working. No one had been outright rude when they appeared, but the meal hadn’t devolved into a food fight or anything resembling fun either. Bobbie wished that it had. She was struck by the fact that even gathered together companionably, the seven of them seemed disjointed. They weren’t a functioning unit, and that set off all sorts of warning bells in the former Gunnery Sargent’s head. They were heading into battle and they were a fucking mess.

Avasarala smiled pleasantly at Naomi’s mistrustful glares, Holden had actually sat willingly next to Naomi but was ignoring her in favor of making polite conversation with Prax, and Alex was gamely trying to get everyone in on the joke Amos had made. When it came right down to it she figured the tension among the _Roci_ crew had nothing to do with extra passengers and everything to do with the fact that they were just people. People with different ideas, desires, and needs…the same as people everywhere. What they needed was something to bring them together, like fresh-faced soldiers just starting basic.

Not that they didn’t have problems. War and terrifying alien hybrids were problems they all had in common, but they were _too_ big. No one could agree on what to do about them, because when confronted with something so overwhelming, it either became all about the lizard hindbrain, fight or flight, or they reverted to their ingrained, tribalistic biases. They couldn’t see past their experiences as Belters, Earthers, or Martians.

They needed something smaller to force them to work in common. It probably wouldn’t take too much to get the ex-ice-haulers all on the same page, Bobbie thought. The problem was getting them to accept…shit. The problem here was Avasarala. _Oh, shit._ And she knew it. Bobbie’s head snapped around in shock to find the Deputy Undersecretary leaning easily against the counter watching her with a small smile on her face. She had set herself up as ‘the problem’ almost as soon as she had met their rescuers, just like a drill instructor in basic. Goddamn that woman. Pushing Holden, needling Naomi, worrying Alex and Prax…she was driving them all away from her, towards each other. Except for Amos, she seemed to let him be. That…was actually smarter than any drill instructor she’d ever had.

Avasarala pushed herself away from the countertop and collected her bulb of tea. “You’ll catch flies,” she said as she sauntered by.

“What?” Bobbie asked in confusion.

“I suppose that’s not a problem you’d encounter much, since you haven’t lived under a real sky,” she said with a the barest hint of condescension, still smiling. “Your mouth was open.”

“Oh.”

Alex frowned at Avasarala as she left, taking the slight as she had certainly intended him to, bristling in his fellow Martian’s defense. Damn her. Bobbie hadn’t convinced Avasarala to join them at all. Just the opposite, Avasarala had used the opportunity to get the dutiful marine out of the cabin…setting her up to bond further with the other group.

Bobbie saw it and her gut screamed at her. It was wrong. Chrisjen might be willing to play the villian, but Bobbie wasn’t going to allow that. They were all on the same side.

She startled when Alex spoke up, misinterpreting her stormy expression. “You ok? Doesn’t seem like your boss is very easy to work for.”

And just like that, Bobbie could see the group starting to coalesce. Now that Avasarala was out of the room, they could come together and bitch about their shared problem. Her audience was waiting with palpable curiosity. “She’s not really my boss. I don’t think. Maybe? I don’t know. I mean the UN certainly isn’t paying to use me as target practice.”

Alex laughed generously, “I suppose not.”

“Why are you helping her, anyway?” Naomi asked.

“I thought that was obvious. We’re trying to stop a war, to keep people from dying.” Bobbie began applying herself to the food in front of her.

“People die everyday,” Amos shrugged.

“And would you help stop it if you could?” she asked around a mouthful of pasta.

Amos made a noncommittal shrug.

Holden folded his arms. “No one here wants people to die.”

“Unless they need killing,” Amos added mildly.

“No one here wants innocent people to die,” Holden corrected with a roll of his eyes.

Prax spoke up tentatively, “We helped you. They’re going to help me find Mei…if she’s still alive. I mean, we do want to help.”

“But,” Naomi cut in, “we’ve seen enough useless death to know we don’t want to be cannon fodder for her cause.”

Bobbie swallowed another bite. “You don’t want to be thrown away, I get it. But there’s a difference between being used as a tool and being wasted meaninglessly. I’ve been thrown away, and this isn’t it.” She was surprised to see Amos, of all people, nodding.

 

 

 

 

Chrisjen sipped her tea and debated flipping from the Earth newsfeed to one coming off Tycho station. It would be, at the bare minimum, another day before she would see the results of the one transmission she had been able to make. And when she finally did, she was going to have to get Holden to give her the data on ship movements in the Jupiter AO to figure out how it was all shaking out. She hated being so far away, it meant too much guesswork. She decided on Tycho. She wanted to know what Fred Johnson was up to, and while the OPA was not in the habit of press statements, there was plenty to be gleaned from what _was_ reported.

The cabin door slid open to reveal a looming Bobbie Draper.

“How was the rest of your meal?” Avasarala asked, eyes still on the feed.

The former marine frowned as she stepped into the room and shut the door behind her. “I know what you’re doing and I think it’s a mistake.”

Chrisjen huffed lightly. “What am I doing?”

“Making yourself the antagonist here, it isn’t the right move.”

The older woman smiled and looked at Bobbie fondly, “It’s good to know that I haven’t become completely incapable of judging character.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that you’re smart, and despite your insistence otherwise, you have very good people skills.” Bobbie’s brow furrowed, and something warm bloomed in Chrisjen’s chest. She pushed it aside, doubting the younger woman would appreciate how cute Chrisjen found that particular look.

“If you think I’m right, then why are you doing it?”

The Deputy Undersecretary forced her eyes back to her hand terminal. “I don’t recall saying you were right.”

“You—fine. But I am right. If they don’t trust you, you won’t be able to get them to do what you want.”

Avasarala sighed and sat down, laying the terminal flat on the table. She gestured to the other chair, but Bobbie stood stubbornly at attention. “You’re too fucking tall. Please. Sit down.” She was rewarded with a surly look, but the woman finally sat down, arms crossed.

“I won’t sell you out to make friends with them.”

“I’d be shocked to find that you would.” Avasarala searched Bobbie’s face. “When we arrive at Io, I won’t be running the show. I’m not a combat tactician.”

“So? That’s no reason to set yourself up as the bad guy here.”

“Isn’t it? You’ve seen for yourself what a fucked up mess they are. I need them to be able to work with _you_ , not me.” Chrisjen held out a hand and Bobbie took it tentatively. “When push comes to shove, they will want to protect themselves. They had better fucking understand that you are not expendable.”

“I can take care of myself.”

“I know.” Chrisjen gave Bobbie’s hand a squeeze and let her go.

“I saved Alex’s life from those dumb kids. I’ve got enough of an in; you can change tacks.”

“A fortunate turn of events to be sure, but it’s not my habit to leave things to chance.”

Bobbie shook her head. “Assuming you get them to effectively watch my back, I don’t see how that solves any of your real problems.”

“Perhaps only my most pressing one,” Avasarala said with a smile and picked up her terminal again. Bobbie had that adorable look on her face again as she worried over what Chrisjen had implied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This started out as a story about birthdays in space...and I just don't know what happened.


	3. The Price

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AU Immediately after 305.
> 
> Chrisjen finds out what happened to Cotyar.

When Cotyar felt the impact rumble through the ship he decided it was past time to get out. The lights flickered and dimmed. He really hoped he wasn’t going to be stuck in the dark. He sat up and slid off the left side of the crash couch. The restraint attached to his wrist gave about sixty centimeters before he reached the end of the tether.

He started with the closest compartments he could reach. He was stretched pretty far by the time he hit a jackpot, an electrosuture in an autodoc kit. He pulled the kit down and set about burning through the thin tether keeping him in the chair. It was not a quick process, but eventually the cord was deformed enough to snap with a strong enough pull.

All the while he worked the temperature was rising. Something must be wrong with the reactor, but no one had shut it down. He found an active panel and with an old SigInt backdoor he was able to access the _Agatha King_ ’s systems. He smirked to himself as he worked, the UNN software was predictably, pathetically outdated. The information he got from it wiped the smile from his face, though. Radiation levels were rising all over the ship. This was not good. If he didn’t find a rad suit soon, he was gonna be on cancer meds for the rest of his life, which, he admitted to himself, might not be that long.

He took inventory of the ship. CIC was in lockdown. That…was going to be harder to crack than the status panel, but not impossible. The crew, well, ID tags showed them congregating in a lounge, but internal readings did not register a heartbeat for anything in there. The telltale vibration of active thrust was missing, but he still felt like there was gravity. What the hell was happening on this ship?

 

 

 

Avasarala, Alex, and Naomi had heard Admiral Souther’s announcement cut short by gunfire before the transmission from the flagship had cut out. Neither the Belter, nor the Martian had seemed overly concerned. Avasarala understood, but she had hoped they might not be so shortsighted. When the hybrid pods were launched though, the color had left Alex’s face. Mars was the most likely target for that launch after all. Alex had grimly pulled up the orbiting ships when she had asked and now she watched in horror. A full half of the UNN flagship was glowing proto-molecule blue. Naomi’s face remained impassive.

“I need an open comm _,_ now.” Chrisjen pleaded. She knew that the Belter was unlikely to give her anything, but she had to try.

Unsurprisingly, Nagata shook her head. “We’re not drawing attention to ourselves. Any one of those UNN ships could nuke us. We’re sitting ducks on the ground.”

“Then at least give me a tightbeam to the _Agatha King.”_

“As far as I can tell, your guy isn’t in control there anymore. Which means they’re even more likely to nuke us. Or had you forgotten they were trying to kill you?”

Avasarala ignored the pointless question and tried another tack. “What do you think is going to happen to that ship? You say the proto-molecule is spreading? Let me talk to them before it is too late.”

She could see Naomi wavering. Reinforcements came over the comm in the form of James Holden. “Guys, we have a problem here.”

Naomi’s attention snapped away from Avasarala. “What is it?”

“We found Mao. They didn’t launch the hybrids. It was Admiral Nguyễn.”

“That warmongering fuckstick.” Chrisjen snapped.

“Yeah, well, that means he’s the only one with tracking data on those pods.”

“Then let me fucking talk to him.”

Finally, the engineer nodded and and unlocked the panel. “You have comm access.”

“This is Deputy Undersecretary Chrisjen Avasarala, your ship has been struck by a bio-weapon. What is your status?”

There was a moment she feared no one would answer and then the connection was accepted. Augusto Nguyễn appeared on screen. He was sweating, his face pale. “Madam Undersecretary, reports of your death seem to be greatly exaggerated,” came his strained voice.

A frown crossed Chrisjen’s face. Someone had reported her dead? Only someone trying to protect her would have. She felt like Bobbie had given her another high gravity injection, her heart suddenly racing. She gritted her teeth, bulldozing through. “Admiral, give us tracking on the hybrid pods.”

There was a moment of silence, “Get me off this ship. Then you can have your codes.”

“Don’t do this. Mao’s monsters can’t be controlled. It won’t stop with Mars. They will lay waste to the entire fucking system.”

“Well then, seems like you have a pretty good incentive to get me off of here, don’t you?”

Gunshots rang out over the comm and Nguyễn vanished from the screen.

A moment passed and then another; finally a new voice came over the connection. “Nguyễn’s dead, Madam. I can light these pods up on everyone’s board.”

“Cotyar,” Avasarala breathed as his face came into view. The panel in front of them began to change as the transponders in the fast moving pods began transmitting. Many of them were already moving out of range of the congregated ships.

“Broadcast to all ships.” Naomi nodded to her and changed the connection. “To all UNN and Martian ships in contact, the pods launched from the surface of Io are a first-strike bioweapon, shoot down any you can.”

Avasarala switched back to the tightbeam, tears pricking at her eyes. “Cotyar, you're...are you alright?”

“Just me and the comms officer left alive in the CIC. I didn’t find anyone else alive on the way here, not really. Radiation levels are climbing, and things are…weird.”

“Can you shut down the reactor?” Naomi cut in. “It’s a food source for the proto-molecule.”

“Won’t those things just go after them then?” Alex asked.

“Maybe,” she wheedled, “but it’ll slow it down it’s growth.”

“We need to get you off that ship.” Chrisjen fought to keep the mask in place. “Do you have a vac suit?”

“For all the good it’s doing me, yes. I’m sure we could find one for my new friend here too. I don’t know how smart these things are, but I can’t say I’m keen on sticking around.”

“No,” Naomi said, “nothing can get off that ship. For all we know they could be infected.”

“Don’t be ridiculous! Send the Razorback. They get on and away from that shit. You can keep them away from anything else until you’re satisfied they’re not infected.”

“I told you,” Nagata said firmly. “I won’t let you have a sample of the proto-molecule.”

Avasarala looked at her incredulously. “I’m trying to save their lives.”

They stared at each other a long moment before Naomi looked away.

Cotyar’s voice came over the comm again. “I’m more than happy to be rescued, but what are you planning on doing about the infestation here?”

“We need to destroy it,” Naomi said softly.

How did you destroy a thing that changed the laws of physics, that dodged missiles? Chrisjen didn’t like where her mind was going; she took a hard left. “Get him off that ship.”

“They’ll need to detonate the self-destruct.”

“No.” She hit the edge of the panel with both hands. Her palms stung.

Cotyar’s voice tightened something in her chest. “She’s right. The missiles didn’t work against Eros.” It was high G all over again, she couldn’t breath and something was trying to claw it’s way up Chrisjen’s throat.

“Don’t you fucking dare.” She rounded on Nagata “You’re an engineer. They tell me you’re brilliant; figure out how to wire them a delay. And for fucks sake, Alex stop standing there like she owns your balls and get the Razorback out to them.”

Alex blinked in surprise. “Right,” he said with a slightly dazed look and turned to head back up to the pilot’s deck.

Naomi’s face had changed from anger and suspicion to pity. Avasarala wanted to punch her. “I need time, time we don’t have. The proto-molecule moves too fast.” She shook her head sadly.

“Bullshit. You hate me? Fine, but grow a pair and own up to it. Don’t pretend that letting them die is the right thing to do.”

The engineer turned and called after Alex, “You know we can’t risk it.”

“We just started makin’ new friends,” he muttered to himself. “Be a shame for Bobbie to have to feel bad about being ordered to kill us when she gets back.”

 

 

 

Cotyar listened quietly to Avasarala curse out whomever she was with. It was strangely comforting. He didn’t want to die, but he wasn’t stupid. The odds of them getting off this ship were astronomically high. Avasarala was now threatening to come and get them herself, which was as laughable as it was genuinely terrifying, if only because she’d probably do it. He was supposed to be her protection detail and she had already tried to throw herself in front of a bullet for him once. Either way this shook out he needed a new job. Right now though, he was still on the clock.

“Where’s our Marine?”

“She went out for ice cream," Avasarala bit out. "She’s in the shit down here, where the fuck do think she is?”

“Just need to make sure someone’s around to keep you alive.”

“Goddamnit, stop. Just stop.” Avasarala sucked in a breath and her voice dropped so low he almost couldn’t hear. “Don’t make me pay for your life, the way you are paying for his.”

He smiled briefly. “We’re all paying. All the time. It’s the price of loving others.”

Chrisjen fell silent, her lower lip trembling. It probably said a lot about what a shit line of work he was in, but the opportunities he had to see the woman behind the mask were probably his favorite job perks.

A male voice came over the comm. “The Razorback is as close as I can get it.”

“Get off that goddamned ship.”

Cotyar gave her a gentle nod and cut the connection.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one sucks and I’m really, really sorry. Ugh.  
> I don't know how they can save him, but I couldn't kill him either. So...limbo ending.
> 
> Gee, not a perfect mirror for my feelings about the situation the show is in now either. :/ But now that it's out, maybe I can write something more fun.


	4. Outing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AU. In the aftermath of a bombing on Mars.

“You know, I’m really tired of telling you that this was a mistake.” Cotyar pulled Avasarala down the causeway away from the smoking wreckage of the transit car.

Soot marred their faces. “Then stop telling me.”

“It’s my job.”

“Would you like me to fire you?” The air recyclers were working, the smoke clearing slowly.

Cotyar’s face became contemplative. “I could use a severance package. The health benefits would be better.”

“Fine then. What do you want me to cut off?”

“Oh, please stop already. You two are worse than an old married couple.” Bobbie brought up the rear, her eyes never stopping their sweep of the area.

“Hardly, Arjun never argues with me like this.” Avasarala stumbled as Cotyar brought her to a halt at an intersection.

“Probably because Arjun never gets shot at when you go places together.” He checked quickly and signaled to Bobbie it was clear before directing Chrisjen none too gently around the corner.

“I haven’t heard any gunfire.”

“The Queen of Cutting Through The Bullshit is going to argue semantics? Now I know you’re scared.”

“Shut up.”

“Why can’t we ever go anywhere nice?” Bobbie sighed.

“Because the two of you behave like petulant children.” Avasarala snapped.

“Our last outing was nice,” Cotyar said. Avasarala gave him a look of disbelief. “Well, at first,” he shrugged. “Open bar.”

“Nice? The only diplomatic event I can remember that ended in an actual fist fight. Which as I recall _you_ started, Bobbie.”

“No, I finished it.”

Cotyar grinned. “This is your neck of the woods, Marine. Why don’t you take point?”

“Do you want to go back to the embassy or continue to the Prime Minister’s residence?” she asked.

Avasarala took a moment to actually think. “The residence.”

“I don’t suppose you want my opinion.”

“No.”

“What if he was the one who ordered the hit on you?” he asked anyway.

Chrisjen snorted. “He wasn’t.”

Even Bobbie looked doubtful. “How can you be sure?”

“What, are you two a fucking cabal now? Nathan Smith isn’t stupid enough to shit where he eats. If he wanted to kill me, he’d do it anywhere but in his own fucking backyard.”

“Alright.” Cotyar still wasn’t happy, but that wasn’t going to change until Avasarala was safe on Earth.

Bobbie nodded and began finding them a new route. Popping noises sounded in the distance. Cotyar maneuvered Chrisjen between the two of them and readied his gun. “Uh huh. There’s the gunfire.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick fix because I really miss the three of them together.


	5. Adrift, Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are two versions of how "Adrift" (see chapter 1) ends. The first one is sweet, platonic, companionable sleeping together. This is the second one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...aaaaand the reason the rating on this story just went up.

_Chrisjen wrapped her hand around Bobbie’s, letting her arm rest on top of the Martian’s. “There’s something else I need…when we get to Io.”_

_“What’s that?”_

_“I need you to not die.”_

 

Bobbie’s soft sigh sent shivers down Chrisjen’s spine. A pleasant contrast to the heat of having her so close. “You know I can’t promise that,” she said sleepily.

Chrisjen blinked. “You’re not even going to lie to me about it?”

“You want me to lie to you?” Bobbie asked, a yawn catching her.

Chrisjen closed her eyes, fighting another round of tears. “Do you want to die?”

“I…it’s not something I really think about.”

“I think you had better fucking decide,” she bit out through gritted teeth.

Bobbie groaned and lifted the arm not holding Avasarala up to rub at her face. “What put a bug up your ass?” she huffed. “I take it as it comes. I’m a soldier; I’m not suicidal.”

“You could have fooled me. You’re reckless.” Chrisjen let her anger build. Better that than more sobbing, she thought.

“Just a minute.” Bobbie propped her self up on her arm as she came fully awake. “I just got done saving _your_ life, from your own fucking co-workers. That was me putting my life on the line. For. You.”

Chrisjen winced slightly as Bobbie’s volume increased without thought to their proximity. The Martian was getting angry now too. Good. “That's just more support for my argument. You’ve been looking for an easy out since almost the moment I met you.”

“You’re…you’re…being completely fucking unreasonable! You told me my job was to get you out when the shit hit the fan and that’s exactly what I did!” Bobbie snapped.

“Congratulations. You were fucking stellar,” Chrisjen said flatly. Then she went for the jugular. “You want to run headlong into your destiny like your dead teammates? Go right ahead. They gave their lives for nothing. Less than nothing, a lie. You might as well be a worthless corpse as well. Now get the fuck out of my bed.”

Bobbie stiffened in response and her grip tightened uncomfortably around Chrisjen’s ribs. She was so still Chrisjen wasn't sure she was even breathing. “No,” she eventually managed to get out.

“No?” Avasarala spat back incredulously.

“No,” the marine said carefully and settled back down behind her.

“Fuck your mother. Let go of me and I’ll go myself.” The older woman tried to pry the marine’s arm away from her ineffectually.

Bobbie’s voice was noticeably softer when she spoke again. “Chrisjen. I’m not letting you go.” Her mask began to slip as Bobbie de-escalated.

“You…you’re too goddamn big for this bunk anyway.”

Bobbie pressed the bridge of her nose against the top of Chrisjen's head, inhaling deeply. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“Fuck you.” Chrisjen burst into tears again with a bitter, barking laugh. She brought her hand up and wiped her fingers furiously across her wet cheekbones.

Bobbie lifted herself back up onto her forearm and placed a kiss on Chrisjen’s earlobe, another against the curve of her neck, her pulse point, the hollow of her throat. Butterfly light touches that sent sparks across Chrisjen’s skin. The politician shifted forward so she had enough space to roll back towards the taller woman and Bobbie managed to pull away enough to let her. Chrisjen sniffed and swallowed the lump in her throat. “What do you think you're doing?”

Bobbie trailed her newly freed hand down Chrisjen’s side to trace circles in the hollow at her hip. “I think I'm being obvious.”

“Jesus Christ,” Chrisjen found Bobbie’s hand and stilled it. “I’m not looking for a pity fuck.”

Bobbie smiled and shook her head. “And you'll never get one from me,” she said seriously. She lowered her head slowly and Chrisjen came up to meet her.

Chrisjen didn’t know why the softness of Bobbie’s lips surprised her. Nothing about the marine seemed soft, she supposed. Her breath hitched as Bobbie’s teeth pulled on her lower lip. She let herself melt into the kiss and deepened it, finding her tongue eagerly accepted. Bobbie groaned into her mouth and Chrisjen broke away, shivering. They lay facing each other, breathing hard, and Bobbie pushed her leg between Chrisjen’s thighs. Chrisjen's eyes rolled back and she let out a moan of her own. She began moving deliberately, rocking against the marine’s muscular quad. “Keep clenching them, as I recall,” she panted, her voice deepened further by the tension building low in her belly.

“Mmm, hmm,” the Martian’s eyes drifted shut. Chrisjen slipped her hand underneath Bobbie’s tank in search of more softness. She found it and began rolling the younger woman’s hardening nipple between her fingers. “Oh god, yes.”

Chrisjen took a deep shaking breath and paused, slowly easing her hand back out from under the shirt. Bobbie’s eyes snapped open. “You know that I’m married?”

Bobbie stared. “Um, yes. Is that a problem?” she asked, her eyes suddenly searching Chrisjen’s in worry.

“Not for me, but it’s important that you know. I don’t like secrets in the bedroom.”

“Oh,” the relief was plain in her voice. “Okay then. In that case, I have to tell you that I’d really like to get back to fucking you now.”

“That’s not a secret,” Chrisjen smirked.

“I don’t think the rest of the crew knows yet,” she deadpanned as she moved her thigh away from Chrisjen’s increasingly damp sex. Chrisjen narrowed her eyes. “Alex is five decks away. Let’s see if I can make you scream.” Bobbie slid her hand into the waistband of Chrisjen’s thin panties and ground the heel of her palm against her clit.

Chrisjen bit down hard on her lip to stifle herself. “I won’t.” She pushed back out of habit, but the words came out a little too breathlessly for her liking. The marine was good.

Bobbie grinned and slid one finger, then a second into her waiting wetness. “Says the woman who never shuts up. I’ll settle for begging. That seems like a win-win.”

“Oh fuck me,” Chrisjen keened.

“Yes, you’ve got the idea.” Bobbie’s palm rolled over her tender mound as she worked her fingers in and out of her slick folds.

Chrisjen moved a leg up, opening herself further as she tried to push her thigh between Bobbie’s. The Martian let her, and Chrisjen made an even lower sound as Bobbie rocked her hips against her, the younger woman’s enjoyment feeding her own.

“You are so fucking wet.”

Chrisjen thew her head back and bucked against Bobbie’s palm, her eyes fluttering shut. Another wordless groan escaped her. She was getting close.

Bobbie’s hand slowed. Chrisjen growled in response and opened her eyes a fraction, but her partner was unmoved. “Not enough begging.” She began to trace the letters on the oversized, MCRN-issue tee Avasarala had procured for herself as sleepwear with her other hand. “ _Tachi._ Sounds a little like ‘touch me’.”

“Aren’t you just a fucking wordsmith.”

Bobbie quirked an eyebrow and unceremoniously yanked the shirt up, exposing Chrisjen’s generous breasts. She began to knead them gently, letting her fingers explore them at length, blowing softly over her nipples, refusing to satisfy Chrisjen's building ache. Her other hand continued its, now tortuously slow, manipulations of Chrisjen’s clit.

Chrisjen whimpered. “You’re a merciless cunt. Please. For fuck’s sake, please!” she finally gasped.

Bobbie immediately ducked her head, folding herself down to take a nipple into her mouth, grinding herself harder against Chrisjen’s thigh as much by necessity as pleasure. She sucked hard on the taut, dark peak and Chrisjen’s hands moved to tangle in her hair, a litany of vulgarities tumbling from her lips. Bobbie paused briefly to move to the other breast as she rubbed her Venus mount through Chrisjen’s damp curls faster, her fingers as deep inside as she could get them.

“Yes. Please. Please! Motherfuckeryes!” Chrisjen felt the wave crash over her, muscles tensing, her whole body trembling with her release.

Bobbie’s forehead was pressed to her heaving chest, and the marine was still practically thrumming with need. Chrisjen relaxed her hands, buried in Bobbie's dark hair, and pulled her up into a searing kiss, thrusting her hands back under her top. She grasped her breasts firmly, rolling her nipples between her thumbs and forefingers, tugging as Bobbie rocked faster against the tensed thigh between her legs, panting and moaning into the kiss. Chrisjen thrust her tongue into Bobbie’s mouth and she finally came with a muffled cry.

They lay together, sweaty and satisfied.

Bobbie let out a laugh.

“What?”

“Now that I think about it, you are old enough to be my mother.”


End file.
